Mercy Me and Murder
by Challen Evergreen
Summary: Mercy is a normal girl... other then being tossed into one of her favorite television shows, kneeing a dreamed up cop in the crotch on purpose and smirking about it, and kissing another dreamed up character on a whim. Yeah, completely normal... and totally not crazy at all... maybe. It's Rated M because the curses are thrown about a bit, this is a WD Fic, what do you expect? Enjoy.
1. Mercedes

Mercy Evans was one of those girls that didn't like to deal with to much drama, she would listen if a friend was in need, but she certainly didn't enjoy it. Actually, she didn't enjoy many of the pursuits of those females that surrounded her. Instead of going to the mall with her mother and siblings, she'd prefer to fix up the car with her step-dad. Rather then talk dresses and shoes, she talked bows and guns. She never wanted to go sit on the sand and sunbath, instead she was right in the middle of that river and jumping off the bridges with the boys. She never considered herself "one of the boys" but she never considered herself "one of the girls" either. Mercy was just Mercy, take it or leave it.

What Mercy _did_ enjoy, was a good TV show. Just like all the rest of her pursuits, her television shows tended more towards gore and violence then romance and comedy, but that was okay with her. Of course that's where our story starts, but not just yet, right now we're actually sitting outside an office building.

-WD-

"Are you fucking serious?!" A redhead screamed at the top of her lungs, straight at a man that towered over her and outweighed her by at least a hundred and fifty pounds. Of course, the little redhead was only five foot five and weighed a mere one hundred and twenty pounds... on a good day, when she could actually get to that. Of course, the girl was also rather fearless so those standing at the windows watching weren't surprised in the least.

"Yes, I am _fucking serious_." The tall black man answered, his voice a husky Texas drawl as he stared down the woman. He wouldn't admit it, but he was quite leery when the girl got like this, and he'd known her for years. "The big bosses want you to take a few days off, no arguments."

The redhead tossed her hands up into the air angrily as she turned around so she wouldn't be tempted to deck the man that had done so much for her. When she turned back around she was a little more reasonable... a little. "He deserved what he got." She hissed at the man angrily. "I mean seriously! What kind of man does something like that to his own child!?"

The black man shook his head. "You should have dealt with it the right way... called the cops and gone threw legal channels. We don't live in one of your TV shows where you can just take things into your own hands and take care of what needs taking care of... this isn't an apocalyptic setting, nor was that man some kind of mythical demon."

The redhead huffed. "You make it sound like I think that stuff is real." She said with a roll of her eyes.

"You may not believe in zombies or demons, but you seem to take the same attitude as those _pretend_ characters." He said, the word pretend coming out forcefully, as though trying to prove a point.

The redhead glared this time. "Just because I threatened him with a knife instead of a gun does not mean shit. He used a knife on his kid, I though it was ironically amusing." She said with a smirk, unable to help the mental pat on the back the black man saw in her eyes.

"And that's exactly why your dad wants you to take a few days off." He finally flat out admit exactly who it was that had sent down the orders. "He wants you out of sight when Mr. Walker comes in so he doesn't decide that getting you back is worth more then the money he's being given to keep his trap shut."

The redhead actually growled in the back of her throat, but not at the money comment or anything to do with Mr. Walker. "He's not my dad." She told the black man forcefully. "He may be my father, and I may be working here for a few more months, but he's not my dad and he never will be. My dad is the man who raised me, the man who took me hunting and fishing and camping... your best friend if I'm not mistaken." She hissed. "The man upstairs is just the one who donated sperm to my mother before ditching us for a younger woman and when this agreement is up, I'm going back home and never seeing him again."

"There's no one to go home too." The black man said gently. "Just try to work this out... please."

The redhead shook her head as she glanced up at an office she knew well. It was the one her _father_ was perched in right now, ruling over his subjects and dictating to his daughter as though she was one of them. As soon as her obligatory one year was up, she was going back home to the ranch she'd been raised on. She'd settle there and live out the rest of her life blissfully free of all the drama her father had always brought to her life. If not for her mother's stipulation in her will, stating she had to work for one year with her real father before she got the ranch, she'd be there right now. Instead she'd be headed to an apartment she hated that was way to fancified for her taste, and she'd curl up in her comfortable jeans and waste away the days until she could get back to the good ol' country she loved so damn much.

"I'm going to the apartment now." She told the black man. "Let _him_ know I hope Walker rots in his grave or becomes the undead he's named for." She finished before turning and storming off, headed to the apartment she hated.

-WD-

Mercy had just started digging around for her comfortable jeans after starting some popcorn for some veg time when her doorbell rang. She sighed as she popped open the door of the microwave so she didn't burn it before heading towards the door and opening it, only to wish she hadn't when she saw who was standing on the doorstep.

"Mercedes." The redhead's father said as he stood on her doorstep, unable to step in as his daughter was planted firmly in the doorway and looking as unmoving as ever. "Let's not be rude."

The redhead ground her teeth angrily at the name. "My name is Mercy." She said firmly, her words as biting as ever with this name.

The older man shook his head. "Actually your name is Mercedes, I know this because I named you and it is exactly what I wrote on the birth certificate." The man said, his words just as they always were, condescending and clearly talking at her instead of to her.

"The one you signed three weeks before you walked out?" She asked, her voice innocent but her eyes clearly bleeding hatred. "Yeah, that matters greatly in the grand scheme of things. What are you doing here?" She finally demanded, tired of dealing with him already. The only reason she hadn't slammed the door on his face... if he fired her and actually had a valid reason, she wouldn't get the ranch.

The man's eyes narrowed, unable to help the reaction at not being in complete control. That was the thing about her father, he detested when people did do what he wished, if it was bad enough he would go into a rage. Luckily he kept it in check, this time. "I wanted to give you some papers that you need to sign." He told her, his face smoothing once more into a perfect picture of a loving father.

"What are they?" She demanded. No way would she trust him, she didn't trust him farther then she could throw him, and since he was a large six foot one, that wasn't all that far.

The man frowned a moment, barely holding back his anger at her continued disobedience to the way he saw things. Of course they'd been doing this song and dance for ten months now, since the day her mother had died and they'd heard her final wishes. She'd wanted father and daughter to get along, just once. Of course this made her father gleeful, thinking he'd finally get the impossible girl under his thumb, just as he had everyone else around him. Said impossible girl had other thoughts of course.

"They're papers agreeing to stay away from Mr. Walker." He simply replied, handing over the papers. "I'll wait while you sign them."

The redhead snorted. "I'll read over them then have them brought over tomorrow." She told him before slamming the door and cutting off anything else he'd been planning on saying. She then locked the door for good measures, not putting it past the man to simply storm back in. She'd seen it happen many times over her childhood, as well as some other things this man hadn't known she knew about him. She didn't hate him just because he'd abandoned her, oh no.

She quickly shook that thought out of her head, tossing the papers down on her expensive granite counter top that probably cost more then every surface in her house at home. Everything about this place screamed money, and everything about the woman living in it screamed the opposite.

The woman was a measly five foot five and was just slightly curvy, although she'd lost a bit of the weight she'd once had when at home and eating good food. It was kind of hard to find good fried chicken and biscuits in New York after all. She wasn't a slacker though, she had enough curve to make a man take a second glance, especially in the tight black slacks and suit jacket that she still hadn't shed yet. At the moment her hair was up in a pristine bun, giving her the air of a sophisticated woman. Of course at home it was usually caught up in a messy ponytail or braided simply down her back, but when it was loose one could see the wild curls that had made it almost impossible to keep the girl's hair looking brushed for more then five minutes when she was younger. Her green eyes also shone with that light that only a scrapper tended to get, and the numerous scars on the small woman's body also spoke of someone who didn't mind roughing it or diving into danger without a second thought.

Instead of going back to the bedroom, the woman slammed herself down on the couch and flipped on the television. She was just too pissed off at the moment to even want to continue looking threw the boxes. Ten months later and she still hadn't unpacked everything, and she damn well didn't want to. This place wasn't home, so she wouldn't be moving in, period. And yeah, she knew that was stubborn, but she just didn't care.

As she flipped threw her Netflix queue, she fumed angrily, her stubbornness not yet wanting to relinquish the anger. When she finally got to where she wanted, she started moving back and forth between the two shows she was presently watching threw, both strategically placed beside one another in her queue for this exact reason. She could either watch her favorite boys fight evil demons and drive around in a beautiful car that purred like a content kitten or roared like a beautiful beast... or she could watch her favorite redneck shoot evil zombies while fighting with the douchie cop... hmm...

Well since she was already a few episodes into the second season of Walking Dead and the third season would be starting soon and she needed to catch up before then, and she was only the first season into Supernatural and the eighth season would be over soon, she supposed Walking Dead it was tonight. Plus she'd rather liked the thought of _Walker_ heads being bashed in, it made her day just a little better imagining bashing in her own Walker problem's head.

So she didn't even worry about her shoes, plopping her heeled feet onto the expensive couch and leaning back against the armrest on the opposite side as The Walking Dead loaded on her TV screen. She quickly went over the events of the last few episodes; Sophia disappearing, Carl getting shot, and meeting Hershel and his family as they all tried to save the boy while Daryl searched out Sophia. Sadly she was pretty sure Sophia would be the latest victim of the cruel world of The Walking Dead, but she could still hope otherwise as Daryl searched relentlessly for the girl. They'd already, thankfully, saved T-Dog... they could still bloody save Sophia!

That was her last thought as she sunk happily into a vegative state and focused on Daryl.


	2. Dreams

**Now I know I said I wouldn't do this again up top, but I needed to add a warning before you continue. I'm a Northern Girl from the tip of my toes to the top of my head and every where in between, I can't do the Southern Accent to save my life and I know this. I'll try my hardest, but those accents and letter drops and such are something I just don't notice, so you're going to have to do most of the voices in your head since I'll just screw them up royally. I'm sorry but as of yet, I've never heard a Southern accent anywhere but the telly so it's all I have to go on. ****Hopefully I get the personalities down though.**

**I hope you all still enjoy the story... and here is the next chapter, already. :) **

* * *

Mercy slowly blinked her eyes open as sunlight pounded into the closed lids. She quickly rubbed her tired eyes as she tried to pop her back, cursing the idiot idea of staying in her suit and heels. She should have known she'd fall asleep, especially after the trying day she'd had the day before. Threatening a man's manhood with a knife and having his bodyguards forcefully drag your ass out of his house did tend to tire a girl out. Of course it was all worth it to get the abuse to light that the jerkoff had been so cleverly hiding. The cops _had_ to look into the matter since a weapon was involved, of course he hadn't thought of that yet. She cracked her neck before finally opening her eyes, only to fall off the couch she'd been laying on as she attempted to leap up in horror, only to have her heel catch on a hole in the fabric under her.

Where the fuck was she! This wasn't her apartment, hell this wasn't even her bloody farm house at home! Yeah, her couch was ratty and old, but it sure as hell wasn't _that_ bad! Her couch was homey, not decrepit. She breathed in and out a few more times as she tried to calm herself enough to think.

Okay, so she was in a house, one that obviously wasn't very lived in. She could tell by the lack of traffic sounds – as well as the general build and type of house – that she most certainly wasn't in New York City... maybe on the outskirts? Possibly? She supposed she'd have to actually glance outside to find out where she was.

Suddenly her eyes widened as she realized something. Walker could have done this; it was something he would do. Hell, he'd been beating the hell out of his daughter for years and she was pretty sure if she kept digging, she'd find his wife hadn't died quite the way everyone was saying.

Oh fuck that! There was no way in any of the levels of Hell – unless Dean was there – that she was going down like this. She wasn't known as the Crazy Bitch of her town because she laid down like a coward and just took shit, this was no different.

She quickly looked around the room she was in until she found something she could use; a lovely and very thick table leg would do just the trick. Add that to the down and dirty fighting daddy had taught his little girl, and there was no way she wasn't getting out of this without taking a few of them down with her.

She flipped over the table, not caring if they heard, and kicked until the table leg finally broke off. With that in hand she headed to the door, only to hear a weird noise beyond it.

It sounded like... oh gross! It almost sounded like some weird, sicko sex noises. If they were screwing in the other room she'd probably end up needing years of therapy... or she could get a new gun and go shooting... that would probably work better actually. With that thought in mind she kicked open the door, only to stare in shock at what was sitting beyond it.

Of course she only had seconds to panic as the freaky thing suddenly launched itself at her, snarling and hissing as it snapped rotting teeth that were only covered by stringy skin and muscle tissue. It was only blind panic, a bit of luck, and reflex that had her swinging that table leg into the creepy things face. She probably would have puked as the things face literally caved in and started oozing black liquid, but she was in a state of survival at the moment, and almost positive this was a bloody dream, so she did the natural thing and just went with it.

After it was on the ground, she stared down at it in shock before bending down and poking it with the end of the table leg. Well, that was not the Walker she'd been expecting... she quickly pinched herself, only to cringe when it hurt. "Okay so maybe shit hurts in dreams..." She said softly to herself, looking around. But if she hurt, did that mean this was like a Charmed dream... if you die in here, you're dead-dead. Maybe, maybe not, but either way she was bloody well staying alive until then.

She peeked out the door after this decision, but luckily found no more dead things walking about. Maybe this... thing had lived here... where was here anyways? Oh that didn't matter, she needed to find her way out of this house so she could find out what was going on. Maybe it was like Alice and the Rabbit Hole... find the end and get out. Maybe her dreams were just going haywire... whatever it was she couldn't just stay there and wait until shit went down or she woke up, it wasn't her way.

So she headed out of the room and towards the kitchen area, hoping maybe she could find a knife or something. The table leg was great, but a little messy. She'd keep it, just because it'd saved her dream ass once, may as well.

When she found the kitchen she started digging threw drawers. Finally she found a drawer full of knives and pulled out the longest and sharpest one she could find. With that in hand she decided to venture out... maybe she'd find something.

After thirty minutes of walking she found... nothing. There were a whole lot of trees, and dirt, and trees _and_ dirt, but other then that nothing else. Now normally she'd be completely happy with trees and dirt, but not when in a pair of heels. Normally she'd just take them off – she'd never been a real shoe wearer if she didn't have to – but she didn't want to risk poison oak or ivy or snakes or something. She wasn't sure where she was, which meant she wasn't sure of vegetation. It would be stupid to take of her shoes unless it became necessary and, as of this point, it wasn't necessary... unfortunately.

Finally, miraculously, she found a road! Now okay, that could be a bad thing, but at this point wandering the forest wasn't doing her any good so why the hell not. Just as she stepped fully into it, she heard a sound she recognized well headed her way. She quickly stepped further out but didn't wave her hands about as the horses came over the slight hill. Instead she just waved one hand, hoping the pair would at least stop. When they came into view though, now that was a whole other story.

-WD-

"Are you okay?" The female of the pair asked a second time as the redhead just stared stupidly at them.

Finally the redhead blinked, coming out of whatever trance she'd been in. "I'm fine." She assured the woman.

"Well then we're going to... go then." The dark haired woman said awkwardly.

"No wait!" The redhead said quickly. "Please help me... I don't know where I am, I don't know what's going on, and I'm completely alone." She said as her eyes widened slightly as though she'd only just discovered this fact. "Hell, all I've got for a weapon is this blasted table leg and cutting knife I just found." She admit stupidly. "I just need some help."

The dark haired woman looked hesitant, but the Asian looked concerned. "We have to help her." He finally said, his voice firm if slightly hesitant. "Look at her; she looks like she only just ventured out. She's not even dirty and she's in heels... what raider have you met that looks like that?" He asked, his voice a little less hesitant as he really looked her over. "I swear, she looks like one of those lawyer types I used to deliver to."

The dark haired nodded. "Do you know how to ride?" She asked, holding a hand out.

The redhead quickly nodded her head as she pulled herself onto the back of the horse without hesitation. "I may _look_ like a citified lawyer, but there's more to me then that." She promised.

The girl smiled. "Good, that's the only way you'll ever survive." The girl said as they headed for the farmhouse Mercy knew would hold all the rest of the people she'd been watching the night before... on Netflix, in the safety of her home, on her over-priced couch and in her over-priced suit.

* * *

**So I wanted to say thank you for all of my friends on here that looked over my first chapter, I love you all! -Hugs and Loves-**

**I also wanted to thank _zaii,_ who is my first reviewer, as well as _elohcin,_ who has started following this story as well. Thank you both for this. This chapter was dedicated to you guys and my girl _Ryu,_ as well as _Wolf_ and _Brass._ Love you all.**


	3. Princess

Mercy's first glimpse of the farm... well she wasn't in the least surprised actually. She honestly had expected it to be a little different from the show, but she supposed this was a dream so maybe it shouldn't be surprising in the least that it was exactly the same... her mind was boring.

As they made it up to the porch, there was an older man Mercy had only seen a couple of times thus far, but he was just as old and wise as she'd suspected the first time he'd been introduced, kind of like another Dale... at least that was how Mercy had seen him.

"Who's this?" The man asked quizzically.

The dark haired woman jumped off the horse after lowering the redhead to the ground. "We found her on our way back; she was on the very outskirts of town." The girl answered her father.

"Who's this?" A man unknowingly echoed the older man's question as he walked out onto the porch.

The Asian stepped forward at this point. "We found her outside town. She doesn't have anyone and we couldn't just leave her." He said, his voice slightly hesitant once more now that he was faced with the man Mercy knew was their leader.

The man Mercy knew as Rick Grimm looked her up and down searchingly. "You found her... looking just like this?" He asked curiously, the disbelief clear in his voice.

"Actually she looked a lot cleaner." The dark haired girl, Maggie, admit softly, her own eyes still showing her disbelief from earlier.

Glenn, the Asian, nodded in agreement when Rick looked at him for affirmation. "Woman looked like she'd just come out of a board meeting or something." He said with a slight shrug. "Except for the table leg and knife she was grasping in her hand at least."

Rick looked the woman over closely, who didn't even flinch from his gaze but instead stared him down right back. Well she had gumption, that was for sure. "What's your name?" He asked curiously. "How have you survived?" He and the group had people watching their backs, guns, a small form of protection... and they sure as hell didn't look as good as this woman standing before him.

Mercy was saved from answering when a gruff voice spoke up. "Who the hell's this?" The _very_ southern voice demanded gravelly.

"I was just about to find out." Rick told the man, but Mercy was turning her head already, slightly shocked even though this was her damn dream, she shouldn't be!

Of course if one thought about it, even in a dream it was shocking to meet one of the men you half way loved. Okay so she wasn't like in love with him, but she liked the whole gruff, fuck the world attitude he had. Plus seriously, shooting a bow was hot. Yeah, she wasn't normal, but again, her dream!

"Gotta problem princess?" The redneck demanded.

And suddenly her dream pulled out the one word guaranteed to piss her off faster then a swarm of hornets being poked with a stick. She turned her body fully to face the redneck and stepped forward, prompting him to step back in surprise before he held his ground and glared.

"Don't. Call me. That." She hissed at him angrily, not caring that this was her dream, and one of the men she drooled over was standing in front of her all primed for the picking. All she could focus on was that blasted title that had caused so many fights and tears in her life. Damn dream!

The redneck smirked at her, trying to hide his curiosity with rudeness. "Whatchya gonna do about it... Princess?" He said silkily, ignoring their audience just as she was. For some reason riling this unknown woman that looked like one of those uppity bitches from before was sending a thrill threw him. Her eyes were flashing like lightning and there was an angry flush in her cheeks.

Mercy grit her teeth. "Knock it off." She told him warningly as she crossed her arms over her chest to keep from doing anything drastic, no longer caring that this was a dream and she was arguing with a dream man who wasn't real. He was calling her princess dammit!

"Why should I princess?" He demanded, letting the last word slide out of his mouth slow enough to taunt the nameless female.

_Oh that was it!_ "Call me princess... one more time." She told him firmly, daring him to toss that word out just one more time. She'd show him just what she was willing to do for that.

The redneck smirked at the redhead and licked his lips. "Princess." He whispered loudly.

Mercy uncrossed her arms, pulled back her fist, and punched the arrogant bastard right in the nose; show him not to call her princess! She was no longer half in love with this arrogant, sodding, prick!

The man reared back with an angry yell as his hand came up to his face. "You bitch!" He yelled angrily as he held his now bleeding nose as he grit his teeth to keep from going after the female. Oh if he didn't think he'd kill her with one hit!

"That's better." Mercy said with a smile. "You can toss that word around all you want, God and all his angels knows it true." She told him as she turned and headed for porch steps, only to freeze as he let another insult fly.

"You uppity little bitch! You better not a broke my nose!" He yelled.

Mercy rolled her eyes as she turned towards him. "Your nose aint broke." She told him before she had a thought. Bending down she yanked one of her strappy heels off her feet and flung it at his head. Of course he ducked that one, but the next one hit him somewhere on his chest, making the girl smirk happily at that. "And I may be bitch, but I aint uppity." She told him before once more turning around and looking at the girl she'd rode in with. "You look about my size... any chance you gotta pair of jeans I can borrow?" She asked as she marched into the house after the girl, ignoring all the people staring at her, including the damn redneck she no longer had a crush on. Fuck him and all the rest of them, this was her dream dammit!

-WD-

Mercy knew the girl was staring as she finished stripping, no thought to decency, before shimming into the pants she'd been given. Maggie's rear and hips were a bit smaller, which meant the material stretched tightly across Mercy's ass, but other then that they were pretty good. Thankfully Maggie also had a shirt the woman could borrow, a rather comfortable tank top at that.

When she'd finished getting dressed and was untangling her hair with a brush, she finally got tired of the staring. "Just ask." She told the girl.

"How'd you get 'em?" Maggie asked, unable to help the curiosity. "And was it before... or after?"

Mercy turned and yanked her shirt back up. "That ones from attempting to ride a bull." She told the woman, pointing at a scar that had been caused when the bull's horn had gored her in the side. Her dad had warned her that she shouldn't do it, but he'd done it and she'd always wanted to try.

She yanked down the material of her jeans slightly, pointing to a cluster of scars that were marring her hip. "That's from a dirt bike accident... I probably should have listened when my dad said I wasn't experienced enough to go up that particular hill." She admit before turning to the front and showing off the one that stretched across her stomach. "Hunting accident." She admit, still feeling stupid over that one but not willing to explain.

After that she pointed out one more, the one high up on her ribs this time. "Stab wound." She finished before yanking her shirt down and continuing with the brushing. "If I told you every single story about every single scar I have on this body... well we'd be here all day and probably for the next few."

Maggie blinked at the woman in surprise. "But I thought..." She trailed off, embarrassed over having been caught judging.

Mercy laughed as she waved it away. "You thought I was a citified female who couldn't handle herself and wasn't even smart enough to know sensible clothes." She said knowingly with a small smile as she finally tamed her wild curls, pulling them into a messy ponytail that draped and swung around her shoulder blades and would be tangled up once more within the hour. "It's a reasonable thought, I _was_ running about in high heels and a suit." She reminded the younger woman without malice. "I'm not from the South, but up north I was definitely not considered city folk. I am... was a lawyer, that was the outfit I was wearing when..." She trailed off and looked around. "All this happened." She admit. "I didn't have enough time to change, or even look for sensible clothing... it all happened so fast."

Maggie nodded in understanding, even if she was thinking something much different then Mercy. "We got lucky." She admit before the curious look took over her features once more. "How long had you been wandering about though?"

Mercy licked her lips as she thought up a good answer, finally she decided simple was best. "It felt like forever." Was all she said before she stood. "I think I should -"

But she was cut off as someone knocked on the door. "I think we need to talk to the girl now Maggie." They both heard the voice of Hershel say threw the doorway.

"Come on in dad." Maggie called out.

The man opened the door, only to pause slightly in surprise. The woman before him looked _nothing_ like the one they'd first met. That one had seemed unfit to survive in anything wilder then a subway station, this one looked very much so capable of punching a grown man for an insult without worrying for her own safety. He could even see a few things that suit jacket had hidden, mainly the strength that only came from manual labor, the tanned skin that could only come from days and years out in the sun, and a scarred up body that one received running threw thickets and such. "You are more then you seem." He said knowingly before glancing at his daughter. "You gonna bring your friend down?"

Maggie nodded, but Mercy smiled at the old man, interrupting the girl before she could say anything. "The names Mercy sir, I'm sorry I didn't get around to introducing myself before my little... argument."

The man nodded at her greeting. "The name's Hershel." He replied before motioning the two women to lead the way downstairs so the group could start the interrogation.

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**One more chapter for my reviewer _zaii_ because she's so dang curious and I had a little surprise after her last review. I wasn't going to post this until I at least built up a few more chapters, but I thought you might get a laugh out of her reaction so there you go _zaii..._ hope you enjoyed.**


	4. Mercy

Mercy was presently standing in the middle of a group of possible enemies – though since this was her head, she was pretty sure she'd be okay since her dreams wouldn't turn against her... right? – and waiting for the rest of the group who was headed in. Luckily they couldn't judge her scars and such because she'd borrowed a flannel from Hershel before heading down here. Daryl wasn't there yet, but that was probably because he was cleaning up. Mercy still didn't feel guilty for that, the bastard deserved it all the way, dream man or not.

Just then the door slammed as a character she knew well walked threw. He was big, and now he was bald... somehow that made him slightly more attractive, you know if you got past the douchiness that was this man. He'd slept with his best friends wife! No matter how in love with a woman you are, you don't sleep with them if it's your best friends wife! That's like sleeping with your best friends kid, you know when they were actually eighteen, if you did it before that you deserved to be shot in the face with an arrow.

"Is this the girl then?" Shane asked Rick quizzically, looking her over.

Of course Mercy stared him down just as she had Rick, she'd never been a timid girl, even when it was in her best interest to do so. Of course that had gotten her in a few... okay, _many_ scrapes over the years, but at least she never had to regret staying quiet when she should have spoken up. "The girl?" She demanded irritated. Yeah she hadn't given them her name yet, but _the girl_ was almost as degrading as princess.

Shane popped up an eyebrow at her disrespectful tone but didn't comment on it... yet. "Yeah, the girl that punched that white trash hick in the face." He reitiated.

Okay so yes, he'd called her princess, but that didn't mean this glorified blow hard could say shit like that. That was almost as bad as Daryl calling her princess, especially since she knew for a fact he hated it since it'd been shown many times over the season and how many so episodes she'd gotten to. "That's the same girl who wont mind telling you what for if you don't take a more respectful tone." She said warningly, ignoring the disaproving look from _Lori_ the bitch... no, she wasn't a fan of Lori and her cheating ways. "Don't call people shit that insults them." She finished, turning her back on the officer and not noticing the redneck in the shadowy corner that'd walked in just in time to hear the comment about him from cop dickhead.

"Okay, lets get to the important stuff shall we." Rick finally spoke up before Shane's temper could get out of hand and this female punched someone else, although the fact that Daryl had deserved it _was_ a factor in just how amusing that little display had been. First time Rick had ever seen the lone wolf interact with someone like that. "So who are you?"

Mercy's eyebrows furrowed irritably at that question, how in the hell was she supposed to answer!? _Oh, I'm a chick from the real world and you all are just my dream people because I have no life and no real imagination_... yeah that would go over well, even in a dreamworld they'd think she was crazy.

"How about you just start with your name." Dale spoke up, ever the voice of simplicity and charity.

Mercy smiled at him thankfully. "My name's Mercy Evans sir." She answered respectfully. She did know respect... when she wasn't dealing with dillholes that were being insulting and rude. "I'm from a little hick town up in Montana but before this I was doing a year in a law office... three months left before I got to go home actually." She told him, trying not to let any tears fill her eyes at the reminder of that.

What if she never woke up and got home! She wanted to see Baby and Biscuit and Flower and everyone else. This dream _had_ been going on for quite a long time, what if she was stuck in a coma and laying in a hospital bed... that would really suck. She stopped thinking about that and went back to focusing on what was going on around her, if she _was_ in a comatic dream and stuck here for a indefinite amount of time, she'd dang well do this crap right.

"So did you have a group... at all?" The blonde, Andrea, finally spoke up from her corner. "No... family or friends."

Mercy shook her head. "My mom and dad died before all this, in a car accident." Was all I said in answer to that. No reason to tell them my friends and the last of my family were in the real world and not this fake dream world.

Dale blinked a couple times before nodding, as though having decided something. "Well then, you can count us as family." He said without asking.

"Wait, shouldn't we find out if she's at least useful?" Shane demanded.

Lori nodded. "I think we should find out if she'll actually be helpful... she could be unsafe." Her voice was softer then Shane's, but she was staring down the woman untimidly.

Rick nodded. "What _can_ you do?" He asked. She'd been wearing heels and a suit for goodness sakes. Yeah, now she looked the part, but anyone could put on jeans and a flannel.

Rick didn't notice the slight smile on Maggie's face, or the knowing look in Hershel's eye, but a few other people did, and this made them look at the girl a little closer.

"I can do plenty... be more specific." Mercy said without apology. She was getting pissed that even in dream or coma land, people were still questioning her abilities. She spent most of her life with shit like that, she shouldn't have to do it in her dreams.

Lori stepped forward slightly, still keeping her husband within safe distance, as though leery of this little bitty female... which she probably was actually. "Do you have any useful abilities... besides hitting and being rude that is." The woman demanded, earning a look from her husband.

Mercy smirked at the woman, knowing a challenge when she heard one. "I got plenty of abilites honey." She assured the other woman. "I can shoot just fine, I know how to hunt, I can cook just about anything, and I can still kick someones ass at the end of the day." She finished with a tight smile. "As to my behavior, if you would like to see a more polite version of me, then I require the same." I told her curtly, not even dream Lori was going to be so damn rude and get away with it. "The world may have ended, but that doesn't give anyone the right to forget human decency."

The woman looked properly chastised, making Mercy feel a little better as the woman stepped back.

"What can ya shoot?" Daryl finally spoke up from his corner. "It's fine ta say ya can hunt, but if you gotta shoot a gun ya ain't helpin. Guns are only good fer walkers." He was being an ass again, but the rialed look _this_ woman got in her eyes was even better then Ms. Prim and Proper.

Mercy turned to look at the man, noticing he only had a slight black eye and a bump on his nose that blended in with all the rest of the rough look he had. "I can shoot a gun... but I hunt with a bow." She told him, absuredly pleased when he showed slight surprise at her answer.

He'd been so sure she wouldn't, what city girl knew how to use a bow after all. Yeah some of them could use a gun, and if they didn't know how it was easy to learn, but someone who already knew how... "Ever actually caught anythin'?" He demanded, testing her.

Mercy smirked at him. "Got my first deer when I was ten." She answered. "_With_ a bow." She added almost as an afterthough, absuredly pleased at his look of... was that respect? She was almost positive it was at least a flash of it. Why did it give her a slightly warm and fuzzy feeling? No way she cared after he called her princess!

"Maybe yur useful after all." He finished, getting the last word in by exiting the house after that.

_Bastard!_ Mercy thought to herself, wishing he hadn't walked out so she could at least get the last word in herself. She hated when someone else won, especially a showdown like that. She shook it off and faced everyone else.

* * *

**I know it's shorter then normal, but I wanted to get the next chapter out before I had to go to my little sister's charity run. Thanks to my two reviewers, _elohcin_ and _zaii,_ and to my newest story followers. You all are awesome. I will hopefully have another chapter out tonight after I get done with everything I'm doing and get enough time to actually sit down and write some more. I can promise you'll have another chapter before the weekends over though. Have a great day. :)**


	5. Hunting

Thankfully the questioning ended quickly, it seemed after she'd proven herself useful they didn't care as long as she was helpful to them. Of course that didn't count either Lori or Shane, actually if she wasn't mistaken Shane was giving her a look she really didn't like. No she wasn't mistaken, she really didn't like the look the man was giving her... not at all. Damn officer jerkoff, if he wanted to go she'd more then willingly show him what she could do, just as long as it meant he'd stop giving her that creepy look.

She just tried to shake that off as she heard Glenn talking to her. She really liked him, well she'd liked him on the TV, but in dream land he was even cooler.

"Are you seriously telling me you survived this long in what you were wearing?" He asked, obviously trying to be polite but to curious not to ask.

Mercy just shrugged, trying not to laugh as well. "I've only been close to one walker thus far, and I took care of him with a wooden table leg." I said with a shrug.

Glenn gave her a look that said he was trying to find something, but she didn't know what. "Why do you call them walkers?" He finally asked.

_Oh crap_, she thought to herself, realizing what she'd just said. She'd forgotten that everyone had different names for them and walkers was Jim's word originally. How to explain that one away... "Because they get back up and walk around." She finally said lamely, which earned her a nod from Glenn. Thankfully it seemed he wasn't going to question her any further about that.

"Hey Chinamen." A voice called as it moved forward. "I gotta talk to..." He paused, obviously trying to make her angry. "New gurl fur a minute." He finally finished his statement, smiling as he watched her grit her teeth before turning back to the little Asian. "Mind givin' us a minute?"

Glenn shrugged before scurrying off, giving the woman an almost apologetic smile before noticing Maggie and moving towards her.

"What do you want?" Mercy demanded, not in the least apologetic about her rude tone of voice. And it was rude, just like she wanted it to be.

"You said you could hunt..." He said, trailing off and looking at her as though judging those words.

"So?" Mercy said, unable to help but feel stupid as she totally didn't understand what it was he wanted. "I said I can use a bow, not a crossbow." She said finally, trying to make herself feel not quite so stupid for not understanding what it was he wanted while she glanced at said crossbow slung over his shoulder. "If you want me to prove my words you aren't going to get it because I was talking a compound bow." She finished, crossing her arms over her chest as though saying _ha_.

The fact that the redneck smiled widely at her comment, almost as though he'd closed a trap on an unsuspecting animal or something, made her a little leery. "Good." He said happily, proving her trap theory. "Seems the old timer's got a compound bow sittin' up in his attic..." His grin was now more bearing of teeth like the lone wolf everyone thought of him. "How bout you prove these skills you got... I gotta go look for the little gurl anyways, you can help."

_Fuck!_ She'd _totally_ forgot about Sophie but she should have known he'd do something like this. The asshole had obviously gotten amusement out of riling her, but now he was trying to get back at her for that punch! No freaking way he was going to win this, she _hadn't_ been lying about her hunting skills thank you very much. She could hunt just fine, and she wasn't a terrible tracker neither. Of course she wasn't up to Daryl's level, but she could track an animal... maybe she could help track a little girl. After all she hadn't really wanted Sophie to be dead, she'd thought that just the night before, so why not help out. This was her dream after all, how bad could it get? "Fine, let's get the bow and go."

"Fine." He answered back, his smile not exactly happy like a normal person, but satisfied somehow.

Oh great, now she was analyzing his smile! This world was freaking nuts and she didn't want any part of it's nuttiness... should the fact that this was her head worry her? Because if this world was nutty, didn't that mean _she_ was a little nutty... Oh lord, she was nutty and she'd only just realized it.

"Comin?" He demanded, looking her over searchingly once more.

"I'm coming." She snapped before moving towards the farmhouse, trying to pass him without looking like she was trying to pass him. She couldn't believe she was trying to prove herself to a dream... how pathetic could a girl be?

-WD-

Pretty damn pathetic... she realized a few hours later as they continued through the woods, looking for a girl that had disappeared in a world were strangers didn't just kidnap and kill you, but instead ate you. Oh this sucked! And she totally hadn't done anything but prove she was a clumsy idiot thus far.

In real life she'd always had a problem with tripping at the most inopportune times, it was nice to know she did the same thing in dream land. It wasn't that she was noisy in the woods or anything like that, her dad and granddad had taught her better then that, but that didn't mean that she was dancer graceful. So of course the minute she walked into the wood, she'd tripped over the first thing that got in her path... she was pretty sure it'd been a blade of grass but that was just her hoping she'd actually tripped on _something_. After that it was fine and she was as quiet as she normally was, but that first screw up made it all pointless. Not only had she not proven to him she was capable, she'd proved the exact opposite.

Of course what she didn't realize was the man in question wasn't thinking that at all. Actually he was rather impressed with how quiet the woman was managing to be. It wasn't that he was like Merle and thought all women were good for was cookin' and screwin', but so far most of the women in the group hadn't really proven Merle wrong. He knew there were those out there, but this was the first one he'd met that impressed him. Not to say she still wasn't a bitch, but she was a bitch he could at least partially respect.

He saw a cabin up ahead and motioned to it so the woman could see it. When she nodded her head they moved towards it. He may be impressed with her silence, but he still didn't know about her aim. She may have said she'd got herself a deer, but that didn't mean she could hit the head of a walker. He'd rather survive to call her a liar, then die cause he'd thought her honest. So he held his bow up and pushed open the door slowly.

Mercy was biting her lip as she waited for something to jump out at them, instead they found a dusty, one room hunting cabin. They moved in to search it, Mercy closing the door carefully behind herself once they'd both gotten in.

She sighed when, fifteen minutes later, all they could find was the evidence that a small person had probably hidden under the sink sometime in the past week. She noticed the look on Daryl's face, and couldn't help but move forward. Yeah he was a complete asshole and laughed at things that pissed her off, but it was obvious just how upset he actually was about this whole thing. "We'll find her." Was all she said.

He glanced over at the girl but couldn't nod or shake his head before there was a noise. He cursed angrily to himself as he moved over to the window and glanced out to see what he'd dreaded. "We're fuckin' surrounded." He mumbled angrily as he looked around for some way to get out of this. The windows were to small and the door was even now being pounded on by dead fuckers that wanted to eat them

He didn't notice the girl until she pulled down a ladder thing of sorts that had been concealed in the ceiling. "These old cabins usually have some way to get into the attic cause people would set up their kids or grandkids bedrooms up there." She explained as she moved to go up.

He grabbed her arm and shook his head before moving up there first. Didn't need the damn woman gettin' eaten on his watch, they'd all think he'd done it on purpose. He may have been tryin' to piss her off, but he didn't want her eaten. When he was sure nothin was up there, he motioned her up.

She was scrambling up the ladder just as the door was shoved open and a flood of walkers fell in. She cursed and swallowed down her fear as she scrambled up the steps.

She made it up them, but a walker was holding on to the ladder and trying to climb it. "I can't get this thing up." She told him hurriedly.

Daryl slid over next to her and shot the stupid thing, causing it to fall back. The lack of fight on the ladder made it jerk up and sent the girl to her back, but at least the door was closed and the walkers couldn't get them. Hopefully they'd clear out soon, or the pair would be able to think of some way to get out of this.

Until then... "We're stuck together, aren't we?" Mercy said, looking over the man and feeling a mix of toe curling happiness, and dread at just how irritated this man could make her if he wanted. Oh this was going to be... interesting.

* * *

**So I know I promised a chapter before the weekend was up, unfortunately my Sunday was insane and I was dealing with my friend possibly going into labor three months early. Therefore I'm a little late for you all but I hope you don't mind, especially my fav reviewer. It looks like I also have some new faces to welcome. Thank you to my old reviewers first, _elohcin _and _zaii_, and thanks to my new reviewer _Jiwa_. I hope this chapter was as well liked as the last few. Also thank you to my new story follower/favoriters... _wolfie witch, HarryPotter7881, CourtneyDixon, sierafine,_****_RecalcitrantRach,_ and_ WinterRayne._**

**I hope this and future chapters are as well received as the past ones. I do have a few questions though now that the thank yous are done... I warned at the beginning that my plot probably wouldn't follow the real one because tossing in someone like Mercy is bound to screw up the plot royally. So here's where you all come in... who do we want to see die or live that didn't originally ? I'm not saying it's definitely going to happen, but there is a possibility that those who died may live, and those who lived... well they could always die. So let me know your thoughts, whether in the reviews or my inbox, it's up to you.**


	6. Trapped

It was only sixty-five minutes or so later that saw Mercy finally snapping. "Oh my gods and goddesses!" She snapped to her feet and started pacing, trying to get over the fact that she felt over heated and on edge. "How do you people deal with this? Always hiding out and waiting until they leave... not being able to just sit down and do something as innocuous as... as... anything. Gah!" She dropped back to her butt and crossed her legs indian styler before she began dragging her fingers threw the red ponytail that had been previously bobbing along with her movements.

Daryl had just watched her mini tirade, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. "Ya really haven't bin doin' this long." He finally muttered, as though having just figured it out. "Ya don't react like normal people... it's like... I don't know." He finished, glaring at her as though it was in some way her fault that she'd suddenly been thrown into this... this... crazy place where nothing was right and it was pure insanity.

Mercy glanced at him and swallowed. "You... you wouldn't believe me." She told him finally after long minutes of just staring at him.

"Try me." Was all the redneck said.

Mercy licked her lips as she continued running her fingers threw the curly red strands in a nervous habit. What could she say to him, really. She wasn't going to tell him this was her comatic dream, but she wanted to say... something, if only to keep him from prying further. But how to explain the situation in any kind of belivablity?

She saw his eyebrow raise up as though testing her, pushing her to answer.

"This morning... that was literally the first time I've seen... any of this." She finally muttered. "I woke up this morning in a dusty room and... and that thing came threw the door and I just reacted." She swallowed. "I don't even know how I survived other then reflexes that I didn't even know I had." She admit. "After that I just walked until I found the street... Your little Asian friend and the pretty brown haired girl were the first people I've seen since I woke up here." She finished, glancing down at hands that were now clasped in her lap. When he didn't say anything for long moments, she glanced up at him to find a blank expression on his face. "I told you... it's pretty unbelivable." And that wasn't even the whole story.

Daryl shook his head. "Actually, the officer has a story like yurs." He finally told her, pulling his legs up to his chest. "Least it makes a bit more sense now."

Mercy gave him a questioning look. "What makes more sense?" She demanded.

He smirked. "Hey, it ain't an insult... for once. It jus makes more sense, overly clean and citified. Not somethin' we see a lot of."

Mercy nodded, her eyes slightly narrowed before she sighed. "Yeah okay." She mumbled. "You know you don't make the best first impressions either." She told him before shedding her flannel. In this small space, with two people and only a tiny window, made the place hotter then one would have liked, particularly her.

She noticed his eyes trace along her bared skin, though she had a feeling it had absolutely nothing to do with her gorgeous appearance... oh no, she had a feeling he was tracing the white lines that were various scars. Instead he asked a totally unrelated question. "What's with the _gods and goddesses_ comment?"

It took the girl several moments to wrap her mind around what she was being asked, finally she couldn't help but laugh lightly and roll her eyes. "It's rather stupid." She admit lightly.

"So... tell me anyways."

Mercy rolled her eyes once more but ultimately sighed. "When I was younger, my mom and I we... we shared a love of this series of books. They revolved around... around the idea of gods and goddesses and the idea of all the havoc they can wreak. Basically it started off as a joke but ultimately ended up as my way not to use the lord's name in vain because my family was rather religious... well in their own way." She finished with a small smile that dropped from her face as she realized that yes, her family was still dead and she was still stuck in some weird comatic dream were the idea of the living dead/zombieish crap was very much so real and she was stuck up here... in a tiny little attic with a man that called her _princess_ because he knew it pissed her off.

And yes, she knew that was the _only_ reason the blasted man kept using the blasted title. He thought it was just so funny that she reacted the way she did, and that was another reason it bloody well ticked her off.

"What _are_ ya thinkin' about." He finally demanded, unable to help himself as he watched the expressions jumping across her face like... like... well he didn't even know. One moment the girl was a closed off tomb and the next she was an open book. It was... oddly intriguing.

Mercy glanced up. "Your obsession with irritating me." She answered simply.

He smirked. "Ah... princess." He drawled lightly before his eyes went from laughing to serious. "Why don' ya like it?" He demanded. "Most women _wan'_ ta be called that, least from what I know."

Mercy chewed on her lip as she laced her fingers threw her hair once more, ultimately though she sighed and decided there couldn't be any harm in telling him one more tidbit about her. This was her brain, it already knew all this right? So then she was just reminiscing technically.

"Growing up where I did... _how_ I did, made princess an insult." She explained, licking her lips slightly.

He glanced at her with a look that said keep going. He couldn't help it, he was rather curious about what someone would have to go threw to make something as vague as _princess_ an insult.

"It's a rather long and boring tale." She warned, fighting even now to not remember that.

He glanced around himself. "Does it look like we have somewhere to be?" He questioned. "I think we have at least another hour or so to go before those things are safely gone."

Mercy sighed and started her long, boring childhood story. "It's just... my father's an ass, a _rich_ ass, and the whole town knew it." She started. "My mother wasn't like that, at all... mom was a really nice lady, yeah she was poor as dirt, but she was always happy. When she met my father, he charmed her right out of her clothes and into being his wife." This was said more sarcastically then anything the woman had yet said in front of Daryl and even he could tell she held... disdain for the man she was speaking about. "One year and fourteen weeks... three weeks after I was born, that's when he walked out on her." She bit her lip a moment as she glanced towards the window. "He waited long enough to give me the horribly pretentious name of Mercedes before leaving for a woman that was barely eighteen, the problem... he didn't stay gone."

Mercy licked her lips and glanced back to her lap where she was once more twisting her hands together. "Every time he'd show up, he'd bring gifts... just little things that were way over priced for a girl who lived in a crappy trailer in the middle of nowhere. Worst of all, my mom would make me wear them... things like a golden locket that was worth more then our damn trailer, stupid pink dresses that were overly frilly even for Easter Sunday." She sighed. "It was hard enough being the white trash kid on the wrong side of the tracks, but when you suddenly had something that was an even thousand hanging around your neck and gaudy as hell... it was like open season. Took awhile before I could handle the physical aspect... when that happened they had to figure out something that would screw with me on the mental level so daddy's little princess it was."

She glanced back up at him. "What they didn't get was that was more then just an insult to me. Yeah, being called princess was bad enough, I was trying my hardest to be... me, but when I was seven, my mom go married to this man... he was more like a father to me then my real father ever was. Them taking that title and putting it on a man that treated me like I could be bought with a few bobbles and trinkets... even if they were expensive ones." She finished her rather... long tale of woes. "So yeah, when someone comes at me with something that makes me sound like some prissy little, well princess, I tend to get a bit irritably. Wouldn't you?"

* * *

**I know it's been _forever_ and I'm a _horrible, horrible_ human being for making you all wait so long, and this chapter honestly sucks, but hopefully this is a start to less writer's block. I hope that my posting order will get better and more often as well. Love you all greatly! Including all the new review, favorites, and alerts. Hope you all are still interested even after all this time!**

**Loves. 3**


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